


Closure

by Yuni30



Series: Nymph Hugs [12]
Category: Ni no Kuni
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Closure, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Homecoming, Hugs, Returning Home, Swaine needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuni30/pseuds/Yuni30
Summary: After Oliver recovers spells for the Wizard's Companion, Marcassin requests to speak with his brother alone. Fifteen years can change many things. Many things but one- familial bonds.(This work can also be found as a drabble chapter for "Nymph Hugs" over on Fanfiction.net along with its sibling works.)





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like A Brother](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/372327) by Wherever Girl. 



> Hey, guys! So, this spawned sort of out of my issues with how the game treats Swaine and Marcassin's relationship as brothers. I felt they needed a little more closure than what they got.
> 
> Shout out to a lot of people! Including the regulars that have graced me with ideas and love. You know who you are. Also, a response to Malecxxx since they reviewed/commented as a guest: "Thanks for the kind words and I'm glad you liked Eldon! I like him, too… I worked really hard on him."
> 
> Warning, this drabble may include: A little OOC-ness, feels, spoilers, two times the hugging, brothers being brothers, and my pension for pushing Swaine into a vat of emotional turmoil. Yuni is not responsible for any tears lost or the game content (i.e., rights). Yuni _is_ responsible for the content you see below. Thanks!

So, the plan was set in motion: they would gather the stones to complete the legendary wand, Mornstar. Equipped with handy spells thanks to Hamelin's great sage, the odd group prepared to leave the mechanical city behind.

"Before you leave," the sage began, though looking at the tallest in the group all the while. "I'd like a moment alone with Swaine."

The two kids and the fairy looked over at the thief curiously.

"Huh? I mean," the young wizard stammered and refocused on their new ally, minding his manners. "Yes, Marcassin," he stammered, half bowing to him. "If it's alright with him, anyway."

Swaine's demeanor seemed unchanged- at least to the others. A nervous bout of energy ran through him as he continued to focus on Marcassin. It had been years since he last talked to his brother, face to face- _alone_. Well, at least in the same time period, that is.

"You should have some closure, shouldn't you," the young braid adorned girl inquired when the ragged man didn't say anything. "I mean, you _are_ family, aren't you?"

"Esther," Oliver hissed, annoyed. They had agreed not too long before returning to keep silent about their friend's past. Here she was breaking that agreement… well, kind of.

"No, no, she's right," the thief eased. "You lot go on. I'll be with you shortly."

They turned to look at him again, slightly shocked. "Are you sure," the wizard asked, concern gracing his young features.

Swaine nodded, smirking. "I'll be fine. Whatever needs to be said is between me and Marcassin," he reassured. "It _has_ been fifteen years since we last spoke, brother to brother, after all," he reminded, locking eyes with Marcassin with a gentle smile on his lips.

The sage nodded, a small smile on his own face. "I will not keep him long," he promised.

The rest all looked at each other and collectively nodded. They turned and walked out, Esther shutting the door behind them.

The two brothers stood in awkward silence. If it weren't for his bad posture, the elder of the two would have stood over the ruler.

Marcassin's small smile had faded and he approached Swaine calmly and slowly with a more neutral expression. When he drew nearer, his face slowly became stern, his eyes fixed on his brother's, his mouth set. He finally stopped when he stood a foot in front of the prince turned rogue.

Noticing his change in countenance, the thief raised an eyebrow, frowning. What's he so serious about, he asked himself.

It came out of nowhere, to Swaine it seemed. One minute he was standing eye to eye with the sage, the next he was recoiling, holding his jaw out of sheer shock.

Marcassin's right hand had connected with his brother's left cheek, the force of it fueled by raw anger and disappointment- both entirely spent in the action. He recomposed himself as he watched the thief stumble back with widened eyes. "Sorry," he apologized.

"'Sorry'?! The hell, Marcassin?! What the hell are you 'Sorry' for?! And what the hell-," he shouted as he stumbled and nursed his sore jaw. He never knew his little brother could pack such a punch. "What the hell did you slap me for?"

"I slapped you for taking so long to come home," the sage explained, approaching his brother again. When he got close this time, the thief almost stepped back reflexively.

Swaine found himself in a brotherly embrace. He gasped shortly, glancing at the prince's head next to his. He's certainly grown a bit over the years, he noticed.

"And I'm sorry you had to come home to such a rundown Empire. I'm sorry I had to slap you… But fifteen years is too long, Gascon," he stated, eyes closed. He held the man tighter, gripping the back of his coat as if he were clinging to a precious object that threatened to fly away.

The thief closed his eyes and lowered his head to rest on Marcassin's shoulder. "I accept your apology, brother," he whispered hoarsely, sincerely. "I'm so sorry you had to suffer alone." He gritted his teeth and slowly reached up to hug his younger brother. "I know I said I kept my promise but… I don't feel that's…" The thief prince swallowed, trying to keep his emotions at bay. "…That that's entirely true."

The ruler's eyes snapped open, but his grip remained tight. "Nonsense. You are here _now_. I can finally restore order to Hamelin- to the entire Empire. It's all thanks to you and your friends," he comforted, smiling. He closed his eyes again and buried his face in the slightly taller prince's shoulder. Despite the rugged look of the coat, it had a softness to it and smelled of earth and herbs.

"You actually smell decent, despite your appearance…," the prince finally acknowledged after moments of their embrace. He finally pulled away, smiling at the worn down Gascon.

"Well, the herb smell is from one of the capsules for my gun. The rest is all from sleeping on the ground," he admitted, rubbing his neck and chuckling.

The sage nodded. He frowned again, recalling parts of their conversation. "I cannot call you, 'brother' as you have called me… not yet, Gascon." He shook his head as he said this. He knew without a doubt that the man before him was indeed Gascon of Hamelin by blood. "Time can be unreasonably cruel to a person," he explained.

The thief leaned back suddenly. But he just… he thought. He then regained his composure. "Of course- we've both changed so much", the older prince reflected. He nodded wisely at the young ruler. "Take your time, Marcassin."

Marcassin let out a frustrated sigh, clenching his fists. "I wish… I wish you could stay, Gascon. It seems like you just returned home." He relaxed his hands and looked up at him. "But, as I, you have your own duties to attend to."

"Believe me, I feel the same," the thief admitted. He glanced at a far wall passively. "I doubt there's much I could do here, though."

The ruler gave a half nod, grinning confidently. "Indeed. You'd do the Empire much better helping Oliver defeat the Dark Djinn. I look forward to the day you return triumphant." Marcassin laughed encouragingly.

"Don't you mean _if_ I return, brother," Swaine corrected, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

Another chuckle escaped the younger prince. He shook his head, that smile still plastered on his young features. "I believe with all my heart that you will return. We may even meet again before this all comes to pass."

"How so," the older prince asked.

Marcassin wrapped his arms around his brother once again. "I just know. You're too stubborn to quit…" He breathed into the green coat. "Even as I put the Empire back together, I'll be thinking of you, Gascon. You're still family, after all."

Though the ruler couldn't see it, the thief contently beamed. He chuckled reminiscently. "Y'know, that brings up a fair point," he began, focusing on the magenta sofa behind Marcassin's back. "I thought of you every day, Marcassin. I wondered how Hamelin fared without me. I worried even worse when I heard about father." He glanced down at the shimmering floor and shakily exhaled. "God… Marcassin. I should have come back the moment I received the news. I'm so sorry…," he apologized again, keeping his hands at his side with clenched fists. He could feel his nails digging into his palm.

"What happened," the ruler asked.

For a moment there was silence. Swaine didn't respond verbally. He reached up and returned the gesture, his embrace tighter this time. He held onto the ruler, almost leaning on him.

"Gascon…," Marcassin inquired, concerned.

"I lost restraint. You know how it is, being brokenhearted," he finally said. "I was just about to head back. I had arranged to go home- a boat and everything. Then Shadar came," he admitted, reliving the horror of losing a piece of himself. "I- I… I couldn't…," he continued shakily. "Suddenly every tempting thought, insane or no, became a very viable option. I never made it on board." He closed his eyes. "I should've been here. It's my own damn fault, Marcassin."

"The future is a mystery to all men, even to you. I think I understand why you were gone for so long, now…," the ruler comforted, holding his brother close. He felt the lanky frame of the thief tremble from all the pent-up emotion. "If you must cry, I wouldn't judge you. It hurt to let the kingdom fall to ruin." He sighed into the jacket again. "We are both at fault-"

"Would you stop preaching and let me hold you," the older man snapped, his voice quivering. His head shifted suddenly to glare at Marcassin. "Just this once… I'd like to be close to my _brother_. No words. No grand gestures. I'd just like a nice quiet hug from my _little brother_ ," he softly requested, closing his eyes afterword. He rested his head again on Marcassin's shoulder, taking in a shivering breath.

The sage considered Gascon's request and granted it with a slow nod. He closed his eyes as well.

The two brothers stood there for quite a while. Whatever issue one or the other had become null and void for the time being. After years of separation neither had ever felt this close to one another in a long time. It felt nice, for once, to be able to comfort each other- even if it was the last time until the world returned to order.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you there'd be hugging. I really wanted them to hug each other outside of that one part where you save mini-Swaine and Marcassin. That, and there isn't that much closure between them. Not really. It's kind of sad. I get not wanting to get all emotional in front of the others for either side, but I felt there needed to be some discussion between these two about the whole "being alone for fifteen years" deal.
> 
> Sorry if I overdid it with the hugging… I also want to give Swaine a hug half the time I played. He looks like he needs one.
> 
> Honestly, this kind of came from a lot of ideas. The slap was initially a funny thought line I had- it was mostly funny because of how I imagined Swaine's face. The explanation Swaine gives is an actual rationale that I pieced together a while ago- that he did intend to go home but Shadar got to him first. The need for closure is based on my issues with how passive the game is about the whole reunion between these two.
> 
> Anyway, do review if you wish. I look forward to your thoughts, everyone!


End file.
